


After Adamant

by thewitch0fthewilds (gossamerstarsxx)



Series: Not With Haste [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullenlingus, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6521533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossamerstarsxx/pseuds/thewitch0fthewilds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Adamant, Cullen is more shaken by Aislin's trip to the Fade than he'd like to admit. He needs to feel her, safe and real and whole...</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Adamant

**Author's Note:**

> This is slightly angsty, slightly fluffy, and _a lot_ smutty.
> 
> **Warnings** : Extremely vague hints of a panic attack in Cullen's case, though it never manifests; extremely explicit tender loving sex.
> 
> Inquisitor is [Aislin Lavellan](http://saiyanshewolf.tumblr.com/tagged/my+inquisitor).

In retrospect, she should have expected that he would be troubled. It was after Adamant, their first night back at Skyhold, and they had spent the evening on the balcony, drinking warm spiced wine and talking about the experience.  
  
He'd fought demons. Aislin had hoped he wouldn't have to fight much at all, had hoped that she and her party had cleared out the demons and maleficar, but the place had been overrun. Some had slipped through, and Cullen had fought them.   
  
"I wished I had taken it," he mumbles, staring out at the sunset. "For a moment. I didn't try to use any of my abilities for a long time...I was afraid they wouldn't work, and that was when I wished I'd taken it. They still worked, I figured that out a little later. But they won't always. I know that."   
  
"Does that frighten you?" she asks softly.   
  
"Yes," he answers, and says no more. He drains his cup and sets it aside, staring out at the bright smeared colors of the sunset with his curls in disarray, looking vulnerable and open in nothing but his breeches and undershirt. Aislin sidles close to him, easily ducking beneath his arm to lay her head against his chest.   
  
He pulls her in tight and Aislin turns, setting her mug on the balcony rail before burying her face against him and embracing him around his waist. He holds her to him, arms strong and warm across her shoulders. He kisses the top of her head and a shiver passes through him, setting his skin to gooseflesh; he holds her tighter, closer, and Aislin looks up at him, propping her chin against his breastbone to do so.   
  
His eyes are welling, but he blinks back the tears as soon as she looks at him. His jawline is set tight and he swallows as if it's an effort.   
  
"Cullen?" she murmurs, as he trembles in her arms yet again. "Hey. Look at me, _vhenan_ ? Please?"   
  
Cullen blinks again, taking a short breath and arranging his face before he looks down at her.   
  
_He doesn't even know he's doing it_ , she realizes. _He doesn't know that he's holding back. He's been grinning and bearing it for so long that he no longer recognizes when he doesn't have to anymore_ . Aislin can empathize with that; she herself is always guarded, but Cullen is her exception. The thought of Cullen having no safe space, no outlet, makes her heart ache.   
  
"Lovedove?" he prompts, tucking her hair behind one ear.   
  
She rises to her tiptoes and presses her lips to his, a chaste kiss that is all warmth and love. She pecks him on the nose just for good measure before she sinks back to her feet, and Cullen's scarred lip quirks into a small smile.   
  
"And what was that for, love?" he asks, and Aislin can't blame him. She's rarely so tender, so affectionate - she doesn't believe that she's good at it - but Cullen is clearly in pain, and she won't let him hurt alone, inside himself.   
  
"Because I love you," she answers. "Cullen, talk to me."   
  
He lifts her off her feet to kiss her, as he is wont to do - she is much smaller than he is, and he holds her like she weighs nothing, arms wrapped around the back of her thighs as his warm mouth lingers over hers.   
  
The sun dips below the horizon, throwing the world into deepening twilight. Cullen kisses her forehead, still silent despite Aislin's gentle request, and she pushes his messy hair back from his troubled face.   
  
" _Ma vhenan,_ " she murmurs, "Please don't shut me out."     
  
"What would you have me tell you?" he asks. "I fear losing my abilities, yes. But I can live without them far more easily than I can live without you."   
  
"Me?" Aislin says, taken aback. "Cullen, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."   
  
"But you did," he reminds her, and even as his voice sharpens his arms tighten around her. "Aislin, you were in the Fade,  <em>physically in the Fade</em>, and I..."   
  
He stops himself short, pausing before his voice can truly break, still blinking away insistent tears as he tries to gather himself, but Aislin senses that he's having a difficult time of it.   
  
His arms are tight around her thighs, as if he's afraid to let her go, and his fingertips flex erratically into her skin. His shoulders shake and Aislin takes his face in her hands, tilting it up so that he looks at her.   
  
"I was in the Fade," she agrees. "I was, but I am not there any longer. I escaped, Cullen. No Fade demon is strong enough to keep me from you, do you understand?"   
  
"But the Nightmare -"   
  
She cuts off his words with a kiss, pouring every ounce of herself into it, needing him to feel her, to focus on her immediate presence; she runs fingers through his messy hair, presses her upper body close to his, clings tight to his shoulder, and Cullen responds a moment later, his nervous hands steadying as one slides up her spine and tangles itself into her long, loose hair.   
  
"No Fade demon is strong enough to keep me from you," she repeats in a fierce whisper, her lips hovering above his as she speaks. "There is no Fade here now, _vhenan_ , and I will do what I must to banish whatever demons live in your mind. I am here, and I am real, and I am yours, and I will be all of those things so long as I have breath in my body. If anyone or anything tries to change that, I will tear them apart."   
  
"Maker's _breath_ , Aislin," he mumbles, and his mouth closes over hers.   
  
He kisses her like she might be a goddess. His lips  are slow, heated, and thorough; every stroke of his tongue, every scrape and nip of his teeth is gentle, but for all his tenderness he loses no intensity.   
  
Aislin shivers against him, humming warmth flooding her body and pooling between her legs as he kisses her, and when he sweeps her legs to the side, shifting her so that she's cradled in his arms, she feels her heart skip in her chest.   
  
He carries her inside, her quarters lit only by a few scattered candles and the rising moon. He's careful as he lays her down, and with a final press of his lips to hers, he begins to peel her out of her clothes.   
  
He unwinds the scarf from her throat and folds it neatly, knowing that it's her favorite, made by her mother. He sets it on the far end of the nightstand before beginning to unbutton her vest, and Aislin is beside herself, wanting his hands on her body, burning as he unwraps her like a gift.   
  
She sits up to let him push the vest back, and Cullen brushes soft kisses along her lips, her jaw, her throat, down to her shoulders; he sets to work on her shirt, leaving more down every swath of skin revealed, and Aislin arches into his touch, shivering a little as he pulls the shirt from her arms and the chill night air washes over her.   
  
He presses her to her back, moving his lips down her stomach, lingering on the dark crests of her hips as he unlaces her breeches. He tugs them down her thighs and kisses those too, brushing his fingers over each of her calves as he pulls her legs free, and Aislin can barely breathe beneath the reverence of his touch. He's so gentle but so sure as he runs his hands up the sides of her body, from her knees to the muscles of her thighs, over the subtle curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, until he reaches her breastband. He begins unlacing that too, kneeling over her and burying his lips between her breasts as he eases them out of the tight leather, and Aislin hums in pleasure as the constriction around her chest eases away.   
  
Cullen kisses the marks where the leather dug into her skin, his mouth warm and soothing over the tops of her breasts as his hands massage the same marks from her sides as well. It feels heavenly, in more ways than one, and Aislin makes a hazy mental note to ask for this more often when she removes the leather band at the end of each day.   
  
His mouths dips downward again, moving slowly down the valley of her breasts and the little curve of her stomach, and then Cullen unties the laces of her smallclothes. She lifts her hips and he pulls them out from under her, parting her thighs gently. He hooks each dark leg over his shoulder in turn, kissing the sensitive skin just outside her knee and turning his lips toward her inner thighs. He's even more gentle there, his lips softer and softer the closer they get to her sex, until he passes it over with nothing but the barest warmth of his breath before applying the same tortuous little kisses to the other thigh, and Aislin's heartbeat begins to pick up, throbbing at her core as Cullen worships her.   
  
She sighs in relief as he finally makes his way down once more, his face hovering between her legs as he glances up at her and places the gentlest of kisses along the mound of her sex.   
  
Aislin's breath catches in her throat as he kisses down, ghosting his lips over her, down the seam of her lips and up again, until he finally parts her open with his tongue, pushing deep between her folds as he opens his mouth over her slick skin; his hips rock hard into the mattress beneath him as his tongue sweeps through her, and he pulls her tighter against his mouth as if he can't taste enough of her.   
  
She shudders, a soft moan escaping her; he is unhurried but not teasing, and the heat of his mouth burns slow. She can't tell how long he builds her up before she feels two fingers pushing between her folds, sliding slowly but insistently into her depths. Her body stretches around the incursion and she moans aloud, rocking her hips a little as she tries to urge his thick fingers deeper.   
  
Cullen obliges her with tortuous care. He sinks them further into her, kissing the dewy lips of her sex as he makes certain that she feels every push and stretch, and when she's seated around his fingers his tongue dips between her lips, warm and wet against the swollen sensitivity of her clitoris. Her walls clamp tight around his fingers and she cries out, and Cullen laves his tongue over the little bundle of nerves again, beginning to pump his fingers in and out of her body slowly enough that she can't help but feel each little movement, every crook of his fingers, every slight little scissoring motion; he repeats himself, lavishing the warmth of his mouth on her clit, suckling it between his lips and releasing it with a sound like a kiss. He neither speeds up or slows down, even when she begs, and Aislin begins to shatter in slow motion under his attention.   
  
"Cullen," she breathes, clutching her fingers into his hair, clenching tight around his fingers, "Cullen, please!"   
  
Her orgasm seems to last an eternity. He draws it out of her like water from an endless well, the slow thrust of his fingers and the unrelenting lap of his tongue coaxing everything she has from her shuddering body. She's powerless beneath him, and she comes over his fingers and against his mouth, comes with an agonizing and intense slowness that's like the crescendo of a song, and he draws out the last note until she can barely remember how to breathe.   
  
She's whimpering as he eases his fingers out of her, turning his mouth back to her open folds and kissing them, sweeping his tongue through her until she begs him to stop, too sensitive for more; then he crawls up her body and kisses her instead, and she kisses the taste of herself from his lips, letting him tuck her close to his chest and run his hand down over her dark skin.   
  
She is warm, resting languorously between his legs with her back against his broad chest, but she misses the feel of his fingers filling her; she needs him close, as close as he can be, and his painstaking attention to every detail of her body is as tortuous as it is wonderful.   
  
He cups her heavy breasts in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the peak of each one, teasing the little silver hoops until her nipples are drawn tight and hard; he wraps one warm hand loosely around her throat as she tilts her head back to kiss him, fingertips lingering over her hammering pulse; he drags his nails down the insides of her thighs, and Aislin's body clenches hard around nothing, the feeling of emptiness almost too much for her to bear.   
  
When she feels the hard length of him against her backside, she turns toward him, tugging his shirt over his head and urging his breeches down his legs; he grabs her around the waist and pulls her flush against him, kissing her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, and Aislin loves him, loves him completely, straddling his lap and letting the heat of his erection burn between them for a moment as they kiss.   
  
She's small. They both know that, are both careful of it, but Aislin can never get over seeing his cock flush against her stomach, seeing it brush just barely beneath her belly button and realizing that the whole length of it will be buried inside of her, her body working to accommodate the width of him as he pushes in, spreading her open, filling her full...   
  
The thought of it makes her shiver, gooseflesh creeping along her skin as she raises her hips and lets Cullen work the broad head of his cock between her slick folds. His big hands settle on her hips, strong enough to bruise but gentle, so gentle in this one moment as he guides her down, and Aislin clings tight to his shoulders, whimpering with every inch that disappears into her.   
  
"Cullen," she murmurs, nails digging into his shoulders as his cock sinks deep. " _Fenedhis_ , Cullen..."   
  
"Are you alright?" he asks, lips pressed to her temple as he pushes further.   
  
"Yes," she mutters. Her nails scrape his skin and  she sucks in a breath as his guiding hands ease her home. She moans softly as soon as he's finally sheathed inside her, rocking and grinding against him as her need begins to throb at the core of her,  pounding like her heart.   
  
Cullen's arms tighten across the small of her back, across her shoulders, holding her fast; he buries one hand into her hair, cradling her head. He thrusts upward, and her body spasms tight around his cock as he begins to pump into her, moving slow, pushing deep, dipping his head to leave whispered praise and soft kisses on her throat and the rise of her breasts.   
  
Cullen sets a languid pace, building her tighter and hotter with deliberate care; he makes her burn, coaxing her from glowing embers to hungry flames, until her every breath contains something like a whimper.   
  
"Aislin," he breathes, voice ragged and low, "Aislin, look at me, please."   
  
She opens her eyes and does as she's told, the intensity of his gaze holding her just as surely as his arms. There's no holding herself back under his eyes, and her whimpered breaths become keening, desperate moans as he quickens his pace, and Aislin rocks against him in time with each powerful thrust.   
  
" _Vhenan!_ " she cries, and Cullen's arms grow tighter yet; the one around the small of her back pushes down, helping her grind into his hips.   
  
"Maker's breath," he says, voice raw, "I love it when you call me that, so much - "   
  
" _Ar lath 'ma vhenan,_ " she replies immediately, and her voice is pleading, soft. " _Emma lath!_ "   
  
His thrusts stutter a little, and his voice grows tight as he finds his rhythm again, mumbling, "I love you," like a prayer under his breath.   
  
Aislin whimpers his name as her muscles begin to spasm, her body clenching erratically as she rubs herself into his hips, the slip-slide of his cock stretching and filling and hot inside of her.   
  
"Cullen... _vhenan_ , please, please!"   
  
"Please, yes," he echoes, and snaps his hips upward a little harder even as he holds her down tight against him. "Come for me, love, please come for me - "   
  
Aislin's fingers scrabble against his shoulders for a moment, unable to escape the pressure against her sensitive, swollen clitoris; her body flexes, her wet velvet walls clench hard around his thick length and then she is crying out his name; a moment later Cullen comes too, and her name the only word on his lips as he spills into her tight sheath.   
  
Aislin moans as she feels the first burst of heat inside of her and rocks herself on his cock, whimpering _Yes_ in a soft little voice; she moves with him until he is spent, and Cullen clutches her close, murmuring against her parted lips.   
  
"Aislin," he says, knowing how she loves to hear him say her first name. "Aislin, I love you."   
  
She smiles into the leisurely press of his lips. "And I love you," she answers softly. "Cullen. Stay. Please."   
  
She sees him struggle with it for only a moment, weighing his sense of propriety against his need to have her safe his arms. She wins out, as she thought she might.   
  
"As long as you want me," he says, and Aislin kisses him again, unable to find the words to tell him that she’ll never  _stop_ wanting him.

**Author's Note:**

> Took some vague liberties with the whole, "Can Cullen still use his Templar powers even though he stopped taking lyrium?" thing. Personally, I think he _can_ , for a good while anyway.


End file.
